#crowley lost his bet with beelzebub in the seventies specifically

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

I feel like I've written about this before, maybe in a tag or something, but I'm honestly really into the idea that, despite being despised by the higher ups (or lower downs), Crowley and Aziraphale are actually considered really cool by the younger rank and file members of their respective sides.

'Cause Crowley's immediate superiors might privately dislike him, but that's because he's doing something that they don't understand. And he's doing it really well. In public, the Serpent of Eden is Hell's golden boy. Every up and coming young demon who wants to someday make it big has got an Anthony J Crowley poster up in their cubicle.

There's competition to work with him on temptations. There are stories— "they say he's started two world wars!" "They say he's the one who came up with Original Sin!" "They say he invented telemarketing!"— that get passed up and down the corridors of Hell. There's a black market among the younger demons for knock-off sunglasses and cheap red hair dye. (The latter has a tendency to dye your hair almost entirely the wrong colour— ranging from bright orange to hot pink— and will make you smell like peroxide for three weeks, but who cares? You all stink anyway, and you'll be the coolest demon in your department!)

If you're a hardworking young demon who's only too eager to serve your Master and bring about The End of the World, then your dearest wish is to be Anthony J Crowley.

And Crowley? Hates this. Absolutely hates it.

Like a key reason why this has all been allowed to go on for so long is because the likes of Beelzebub and co. just find it too damn amusing to watch the great Serpent of Eden go slithering round the long way through the back alleyways of Hell in the hopes of avoiding his adoring fans (who have been tipped off by Hastur, and are already waiting for him at the other end).

Crowley wants to be cool, yes, desperately so. But Crowley wants to be James Bond, and now instead he's stuck being Hell's weirdo version of Captain America.

He has to give speeches! He gets held up as a role model! Somewhere in Hell there are even a bunch of Health and Safety videos starring the Demon Crowley, from that time he lost a bet with Beelzebub back in the '70s. Featuring such exciting titles as: '99 Reasons Why You Shouldn't Lick The Walls' (the first 98 are just increasingly detailed descriptions of what Beelzebub will do to the next person ze catches doing it).

It's humiliating.

Aziraphale, on the other hand… well, young angels really aren't meant to look up to Aziraphale. In fact, letting your squadron leader know that you're an Aziraphale fan is a good way to land yourself a stern talking to and a reccomendation that you find yourself some better role models (have you considered Gabriel, by any chance?).

Aziraphale made a terrible error in letting the Serpent in, and although Heaven in its great mercy saw fit to forgive him, in penance he must walk the Earth until the End Times, protecting the humans from the consequences of his own, silly mistake. You tolerate Aziraphale, you might pity him even, but you do not admire him.

Except… as far as anyone in Heaven is concerned, Aziraphale spends most of his time on Earth fending off vicious demons at flaming sword point. And I don't care what species you are, there's something inherently badass about that.

So there's a always sizeable population of young angels who hang out in some of the less blindingly lit corners of Heaven to trade stories about the Guardian of the Eastern Gate. "They say he consumes gross matter! Doesn't even care about defiling his corporation— he's just that hardcore." "They say he can do magic— without miracles!" "They say he's the only angel the Serpent of Eden was ever afraid of!"

'Cool'— and Crowley would really like to debate this usage of the word— angels carry pictures of Aziraphale around with them, usually torn from that one issue of the Celestial Observer that covered Gabriel's attempt to promote him ("They say he turned it down! Said it was his duty to stay and protect the humans!"), and owning one of these is a great way to gain some celestial street cred. Phrases like "my dear" or "tickety boo" are the Heavenly equivalent of slang— and referring to anything as "nifty" in front of your superiors will get you a proper dressing down and several hours on polishing duty in the armoury. Every young angel's rebellious phase involves tartan.

Yeah, to us Aziraphale comes across as just a stuffy old professory-type bloke, but from an angelic perspective he's like a cross between Van Helsing and Bear Grylls (I stand by my headcanon that living on Earth, eating and drinking physical matter, is to angels what living in the jungle for six weeks, eating grubs and drinking your own urine filtered through a sock, is to humans). You don't mess with the Guardian of the Eastern Gate.

Aziraphale, of course, knows nothing about this.

He's not generally allowed much interaction with host outside of the archangels, and the few admirers of his that he's managed to come face to face with were generally too starstruck to say anything. As far as he's concerned, everybody in Heaven sees him the same way Gabriel does.

As a result, he is even more surprised than Crowley is when a ragtag bunch of minor angels and demons show up at the bookshop a few months after the Apocawon't, asking to join the revolution.

[ymfingsteadilyon]

#crowley lost his bet with beelzebub in the seventies specifically

#because the presence of The Moustache is a *really* important part of my vision

#for the 'health and safety with the Demon Crowley' series

I feel like I've written about this before, maybe in a tag or something, but I'm honestly really into the idea that, despite being despised by the higher ups (or lower downs), Crowley and Aziraphale are actually considered really cool by the younger rank and file members of their respective sides.

'Cause Crowley's immediate superiors might privately dislike him, but that's because he's doing something that they don't understand. And he's doing it really well. In public, the Serpent of Eden is Hell's golden boy. Every up and coming young demon who wants to someday make it big has got an Anthony J Crowley poster up in their cubicle.

There's competition to work with him on temptations. There are stories— "they say he's started two world wars!" "They say he's the one who came up with Original Sin!" "They say he invented telemarketing!"— that get passed up and down the corridors of Hell. There's a black market among the younger demons for knock-off sunglasses and cheap red hair dye. (The latter has a tendency to dye your hair almost entirely the wrong colour— ranging from bright orange to hot pink— and will make you smell like peroxide for three weeks, but who cares? You all stink anyway, and you'll be the coolest demon in your department!)

If you're a hardworking young demon who's only too eager to serve your Master and bring about The End of the World, then your dearest wish is to be Anthony J Crowley.

And Crowley? Hates this. Absolutely hates it.

Like a key reason why this has all been allowed to go on for so long is because the likes of Beelzebub and co. just find it too damn amusing to watch the great Serpent of Eden go slithering round the long way through the back alleyways of Hell in the hopes of avoiding his adoring fans (who have been tipped off by Hastur, and are already waiting for him at the other end).

Crowley wants to be cool, yes, desperately so. But Crowley wants to be James Bond, and now instead he's stuck being Hell's weirdo version of Captain America.

He has to give speeches! He gets held up as a role model! Somewhere in Hell there are even a bunch of Health and Safety videos starring the Demon Crowley, from that time he lost a bet with Beelzebub back in the '70s. Featuring such exciting titles as: '99 Reasons Why You Shouldn't Lick The Walls' (the first 98 are just increasingly detailed descriptions of what Beelzebub will do to the next person ze catches doing it).

It's humiliating.

Aziraphale, on the other hand… well, young angels really aren't meant to look up to Aziraphale. In fact, letting your squadron leader know that you're an Aziraphale fan is a good way to land yourself a stern talking to and a reccomendation that you find yourself some better role models (have you considered Gabriel, by any chance?).

Aziraphale made a terrible error in letting the Serpent in, and although Heaven in its great mercy saw fit to forgive him, in penance he must walk the Earth until the End Times, protecting the humans from the consequences of his own, silly mistake. You tolerate Aziraphale, you might pity him even, but you do not admire him.

Except… as far as anyone in Heaven is concerned, Aziraphale spends most of his time on Earth fending off vicious demons at flaming sword point. And I don't care what species you are, there's something inherently badass about that.

So there's a always sizeable population of young angels who hang out in some of the less blindingly lit corners of Heaven to trade stories about the Guardian of the Eastern Gate. "They say he consumes gross matter! Doesn't even care about defiling his corporation— he's just that hardcore." "They say he can do magic— without miracles!" "They say he's the only angel the Serpent of Eden was ever afraid of!"

'Cool'— and Crowley would really like to debate this usage of the word— angels carry pictures of Aziraphale around with them, usually torn from that one issue of the Celestial Observer that covered Gabriel's attempt to promote him ("They say he turned it down! Said it was his duty to stay and protect the humans!"), and owning one of these is a great way to gain some celestial street cred. Phrases like "my dear" or "tickety boo" are the Heavenly equivalent of slang— and referring to anything as "nifty" in front of your superiors will get you a proper dressing down and several hours on polishing duty in the armoury. Every young angel's rebellious phase involves tartan.

Yeah, to us Aziraphale comes across as just a stuffy old professory-type bloke, but from an angelic perspective he's like a cross between Van Helsing and Bear Grylls (I stand by my headcanon that living on Earth, eating and drinking physical matter, is to angels what living in the jungle for six weeks, eating grubs and drinking your own urine filtered through a sock, is to humans). You don't mess with the Guardian of the Eastern Gate.

Aziraphale, of course, knows nothing about this.

He's not generally allowed much interaction with host outside of the archangels, and the few admirers of his that he's managed to come face to face with were generally too starstruck to say anything. As far as he's concerned, everybody in Heaven sees him the same way Gabriel does.

As a result, he is even more surprised than Crowley is when a ragtag bunch of minor angels and demons show up at the bookshop a few months after the Apocawon't, asking to join the revolution.